


I Can Give You the World

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aladdin AU, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Biodad Tony, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Feminization, Incest, Inspired by Aladdin (1992), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Parent/Child Incest, Possessive Tony Stark, Sultan Tony, ruined orgasm, son peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Princess Peter's birthday is in three days, and he keeps turning away suitor after suitor. Turns out his father is the only person that can sate the pampered princess.





	I Can Give You the World

**Author's Note:**

> you’re welcome in advance for tainting your childhood *bows* hope you enjoy!

The ornate wooden door’s thrown open, slamming against the wall, and Tony looks up, taking in the prince’s infuriated expression, eyebrow arching. “Leaving so soon?” he asks, dry and slightly amused, lips twisting at the corners.

“I’ve never been so insulted in my life!” Prince Eugene growls, slamming the door behind him. He throws his hands in the air as he turns his back away, still shouting. “Good luck marrying _him_ off!”

Something in Tony’s expression changes at the display of anger, the tilt of his head more menacing than curious now, blue eyes narrowing imperceptibly. He inclines his head in the direction of the departing prince, and Rhodey nods in acknowledgement, taking a second to snicker at the ripped seat of the man’s pants before departing after him, no doubt… enlightening him, shall we say, to the error of his ways.

Tony takes a moment to finish his drink, leaving the empty goblet on the table in front of him, a fond sigh escaping him. “Oh, Peter…” He makes his way to the gardens, silk robes billowing as he walks, calling softly for the boy. “Peter? _Peter!_ ” Tony spies Peter resting on the fountain’s ledge, fingers swirling lightly in the water. He makes his way to the fountain, treading lightly, pausing to scratch Peter’s tigress, Karen, behind the ears as she chews happily away at the winner’s spoils of her battle with Prince Eugene’s pants. “Such a good girl, Karen,” Tony praises, and the creature purrs in contentment. “So this is why Prince Eugene stormed out?”

“Please don’t be angry with her, daddy,” Peter pipes up quietly, finally, rounding on Tony with pleading eyes, as wide as saucers. “She just wanted to… to play with him!”

“Oh sweetheart,” Tony breathes, moving to stand in front of his son. He cards a hand through Peter’s hair, gripping the fluffy, silky curls in his hand, tugging the boy’s face up. Peter arches his neck but steadfastly avoids his eyes, gaze pinned somewhere behind Tony even as he whines gently, a conditioned response to Tony’s grip on his hair. Tony releases his hold, running a finger down Peter’s cheekbone, tracing the arch of his lip, pad of his index coming to rest gently on the boy’s bottom lip, which Peter drops without a second thought, sucking the tip into his mouth. Tony’s chest rumbles appreciatively, releasing a pleased hum at both the display of obedience and the pretty picture his son makes. “I’m not angry with anyone.”

“Not even me?” Peter questions, pausing the swirling of his tongue long enough to ask, and Tony melts as much as he is able.

“ _Especially_ not you, my pretty princess. Why on earth would you think that?” Tony retracts his finger from Peter’s mouth, wiping the spit away on his son’s bottom lip and smearing his lipstick, but in spite of that – or maybe because of it – the boy looks as gorgeous as ever.

“Because the law says I’m to be wed before my next birthday,” Peter whispers.

“And?”

“And my birthday is in three days, but I keep turning every suitor away.”

“And I’d turn them away if you didn’t.” Tony kneels before Peter, tipping the boy’s chin up with his finger so he’s forced to look at him. “I’ve spent my life giving you the best of everything this world has to offer, haven’t I?”

Peter flushes prettily, nuzzling into his father’s hand. “You have, daddy,” he answers, unprompted.

“Because you deserve nothing less. So if you turned away that snooty, sniveling, pathetic excuse of a prince because he wasn’t good enough, how could I be angry at you for that?”

Peter’s eyes are wide and round, tinged with appreciation and gratitude and _want_ , and Tony leans up, pressing a chaste kiss to the boy’s lips.

But when Tony pulls away Peter _mewls_ , surging forward, sliding off the ledge to capture his lips again, licking into his father’s mouth. Tony groans into the kiss, the show of desperation, the show of _need_ stealing his breath away.

He breaks the kiss when breathing becomes a necessity, rising to his feet, slightly unsteady. Tony peers down at his son, still kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily. His gaze travels further, down Peter’s front to the sheer, gauzy blue pants, Peter’s cock tenting the material. Neither the fabric of the pants nor the lace of his panties are particularly absorbent, and Tony can see the marks where pre-come has dampened the material.

“Ooh, princess,” Tony coos, sliding his slipper between Peter’s leg, tracing over his erection. “Is your gorgeous clit leaking for me?”

“A-always,” Peter pants, breath catching when Tony presses down particularly hard.

“What a _good girl_ you are,” grinning sharp when Peter responds with a soft _thank you, daddy_. “You know,” Tony begins, watching Peter squirm at the husky, gravelly tone his voice has acquired, each word dripping in sin, “I haven’t seen your gorgeous tits since this morning, sweetheart, and daddy misses them. Why don’t you take them out and play with them for me? Show them off, baby.”

Tony spins, sitting down on the ledge of the fountain where Peter previously was, watching as Peter crawls towards him, ass swaying behind him. He rises to his knees when he’s close enough, turning around, presenting his back to his father. “Untie me, daddy?” The question comes whisper soft over Peter’s shoulder, and Tony reaches his hand out, tracing over Peter’s shoulders, down his back, watching as goosebumps erupt in his wake. He tugs on the silken string, the tie slipping undone easily. Peter spins around again, and Tony runs at appreciative glance over the boy’s bared upper half, imprints of his teeth, small hickeys and darkening bruises little reminders of the attention he’d lavished the boy with earlier.

Peter doesn’t need another reminder once he’s sure he has Tony’s attention, hands skating up his stomach, a shiver wracking his body at the delicate touch. His fingers ghost over his nipples, trembling when he runs over them with more pressure, pressing firmer. He stops momentarily to wet his fingers, sucking them into his mouth and letting them go with an obscene pop, drifting them back down to his nipples again. He rolls the right nub between his thumb and forefinger, lightly scratching over the left, and already Tony can see his hips making aborted movements into thin air, circling fruitlessly as the airy material of his pants provides no relief.

Tony’s content to watch on, occasionally palming his cock over his pants, pressing down hard to provide minimal relief as Peter works himself up into a state. He’s trembling near continuously with the jolts of pleasure running through his body, nipples almost unbearably sensitive. “That’s it, you’re doing so well, gorgeous. I bet they’re just _aching_ now, hm? So _desperate_ for more attention?” and Peter nods frantically, biting down on his lips to muffle his moans as he twists both nipples at the same time, roughly, arching into the touch and oh, that just won’t do. Tony reaches forward, freeing Peter’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Did I say you could keep your pretty, pretty noises from me? No? That’s right. So be a good girl and let me hear you make yourself feel so good just by playing with your titties, angel.”

Peter’s eyes blink open at the command and _fuck_ , he looks so wrecked already, a sheen of wetness in his eyes as the friction is both more than enough and not nearly enough at the same time, and not for the first time Tony marvels at what a beautiful boy his baby is, so fucking perfect Tony can’t begin to fathom he’s really his. His eyes drift down, tracing the lean lines of Peter’s body, and notices the boy’s abdominal muscles rippling in the way they always do when he’s close, hips rutting into the air with less finesses, more desperation now. “Oh sweetheart, you’re close? Just from this, from giving your tits a little attention? Got your clit just ready to squirt?” Tony mocks with faux sympathy. Peter whimpers his assent, nails scratching over his nipples again, and _Jesus Christ_ , Tony just wants to see him fall apart. He leans forward, till his lips are at Peter’s ear. “Then squirt for me, my pretty princess,” he growls, and that’s all it takes, really. Peter twists his nipples one last time and then his come is soaking the laces of his panties and the gauze of his pants alongside a high-pitched keen, staining and marking his skin a sticky white.

But when Tony pulls back, there’s no relief to be found on Peter’s face. If anything he seems even more desperate, and Tony grins wickedly, looking down to where Peter’s still fully hard. “Aww, baby, what’s the matter? You still look so _needy_ , even after your little clit just squirted and made a mess. Was it not enough?” They both know it wasn’t, and Tony takes sick pleasure in watching Peter shake his head miserably, avoiding eye contact as he plays with the string of his pants. “Tell daddy why,” Tony commands.

“Be-because it was ru-ruined,” Peter stutters. “No-ot enough.”

“Not enough?” Tony asks, playfully incredulous. “Pray tell, my pretty princess, why wasn’t it enough?”

“Wasn’t your cock.” Peter whispers softly, “Need your cock, _please_ , daddy,” and Tony lets out a groan as the plea goes straight to his dick, which twitches under his robes.

“I really have spoiled you stupid, haven’t I?” Tony wonders aloud, amused. “Won’t accept anything less than the best.” Tony curls a finger, beckoning Peter forward. When the boy is close enough, Tony fists his hand in hazel curls, forcing Peter to look at him. “Clothes off, sweetheart. Hold onto your panties.”

Peter stands quickly and strips, pulling his pants and underwear off in one go. He fishes his panties out of the swathe of fabric before standing in front of Tony again, looking down at the ground. Tony extracts the scrap of fabric from Peter’s clenched fist, ordering “mouth open, baby.” Peter’s jaw falls open on command, and Tony takes the opportunity to shove Peter’s panties in his mouth, watching the boy’s eyes widen in surprise, waiting for a protest that never comes. “You really are such a good girl. Maybe next time you’ll be good enough to earn my come in your mouth,” Tony muses, reaching out to roughly tweak Peter’s nipple before standing up, moving behind the boy. He places a hand flat on Peter’s back, bending him over the ledge of fountain. “Bend over for me, princess. Daddy wants you to watch yourself while I ruin you for anyone else’s cock.”

He ignores Peter’s wet gasp at the words, hand moving from between his boy’s shoulders and drifting down his back, tracing the curvature of his spine. When Tony reaches the top of Peter’s ass he palms it with both hands, spreading his cheeks apart to expose the boy’s hole. Tony’s content to stand like that for a while, smirking when Peter starts squirming, uncomfortable with Tony simply staring. The whimpered _daddyyy_ comes out muffled from behind the panties, and Tony’s smirk grows wider. “What’s the matter, baby? Daddy’s just admiring his pretty pussy. Haven’t seen it since this morning, I missed it,” he simpers, watching Peter’s head fall forward, hips circling fruitlessly against the cold, unforgiving marble of the ledge as his desperation grows.

Tony takes pity, using his left hand to keep Peter’s cheeks spread, right thumb skating over the boy’s entrance, applying the barest pressure. The muscle twitches under his ministrations, winking at him. “Look at that,” Tony coos, “your hungry little pussy’s trying to suck me in. Looks like it missed me too.” He’s still wet from their earlier fuck, come and oil slicking the way for Tony’s thumb as it continues to ghost over his boy’s hole, and he dips the tip of his thumb in, stretching his son while checking to see if he’s slick enough inside. Tony knows Peter can take it, they’ve done it enough times in the past, so he pulls away completely, yanking at the tie of his robes, billowing pants falling to his ankles. He grips his cock at the base, jerking himself roughly a few times because he can’t help it, rutting forward into his own fist, grunt muffled as he bites down on his lip. He’s keyed up enough, what with watching Peter put on such a filthy show for him, that he knows this won’t last long if he keeps it up, so he stops, moving back up behind Peter.

He doesn’t offer the boy any warning, simply taking himself in hand again and sliding home with one quick push of his hips, both father and son moaning at the sensation, Peter’s muffled behind his gag while Tony’s reverberates into the garden. God, it doesn’t matter how many times they do this, how many times his boy gives himself up to him, the way Peter’s body lets him in, walls warm and wet and _tight_ around him – it never fails to take his breath away. “Your pussy’s so goddamn _tight_ for me, princess. Every. Single. Fucking. Time,” Tony grunts, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts of his hips, grinding deep, angling for Peter’s prostate. He knows he’s found it when Peter’s garbled whines filter through the fabric, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the marble, jerking back and forth with the force of his father’s thrusts.

Tony looks down, growl escaping him as he takes in the way Peter stretches for him, rim pink and puffy and gorgeous. “Prettiest cunt in all the fucking land baby, wish you could see the way it sucks me in, so desperate for me, for my cock.” Peter clenches down, tightening around him instinctively at the filth dripping into his ear, and Tony’s orgasm blindsides him, barrelling through him as he comes with a shout of _oh_ fuck _, princess!_

Tony’s arms give out underneath him and he collapses, draping himself over Peter’s back, sweat sticky skin meeting Peter’s own. He pants harshly into the boy’s ear, and Peter shivers at the warmth against the sensitive skin, tightening around Tony again, which draws a low moan from the man, who’s quickly becoming oversensitive. He withdraws slowly, thumb pressing against his son’s entrance when his cock slips free, pushing his come back inside. He reaches his free hand around the boy’s hip, surprised to find him still hard. Tony wraps his arm around Peter’s waist, pulling him upright before spinning him around.

Upon looking down, Tony’s pleased to take in Peter’s dazed expression, lips bitten red, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and blown wide, covered with a light sheen of tears. Tony leans against the ledge, pulling Peter forward and slipping a thigh between his legs, two fingers sliding inside his entrance. He uses his free hand to pull the boy’s hips forward. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encourages, “get your pretty clit off. Make a mess of my robes like you did with your pants. Mark me up, daddy wants to go to his next meeting covered in your come.” Between Tony’s filthy words, the fingers pressing insistently against his prostate, and the ruined orgasm from earlier, Peter comes in no time at all, shaking like a leaf in Tony’s arms. He collapses against his father, panting into the crook of Tony’s neck, and Tony gently draws the panties out of Peter’s mouth, tossing them away before massaging the boy’s jaw lightly. “So good for me, princess,” Tony whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead, smiling when Peter kisses the hollow of his clavicle in turn.

They sit in silence for a while, Tony just carding his fingers through Peter’s hair, massaging at his scalp.

“I still have to be married in three days, daddy,” Peter sighs, breaking the silence, turning his face further into Tony’s neck as if snuggling closer will make the problem disappear.

“I know, baby,” Tony replies, hiding his smile in Peter’s hair. “Guess you’ll just have to marry me, sweetheart.”

Peter frowns, nose scrunching adorably. “Isn’t there a law against that, daddy? Won’t the council try to stop it from happening?”

Tony’s eyes flash a dark blue, the twist to his lips suddenly savage, hold on Peter tightening imperceptibly. “I’d like to see them try.”

**Author's Note:**

> [@starkerchemistryy](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/starkerchemistryy)on tumblr, come say hi! :)


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